[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel":3,"chapter-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-816":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","My Life as a Mental Mentor in Marvel",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2323384,4544,"Chapter 816: The Red Hood (7)","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-816",816,"\u003Cp>(This segment may feature frequent scene cuts—proceed with caution if prone to motion sickness; I’ve warned you!)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What surprised me was that the new generation of this city is far from the chaotic and vicious appearance they project; beneath their forced ferocity lies a calm, composed, and far-sighted heart—that is the future of Gotham.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Their actions shocked me deeply, and all of this began with the storm that arrived that night…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The pen tip lifted; Bruce gently traced the side of the pen with his fingers, then looked up at the heavy rain beyond the wooden curtains, droplets striking the glass in dense clusters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The droplets slid downward and vanished at the bottom of the windowsill; on the table, beneath the dim glow of the desk lamp, the torn edge of the calendar page was clearly visible—the date circled, with a few words written beside it: “Two days until submission.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the date, Bruce checked his progress on the essay; he knew he needed to speed up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rain outside reminded him of the day the storm came, back when the exam had just begun, and he was with the Kids’ Gang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gotham’s rain didn’t just bring a peaceful night to the wealthy districts—it also brought an unwarranted disaster to the children struggling in the alleys.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When the roof leaks, it rains inside”—this wasn’t just a proverb; for children, a leaking home was terrifying, because everyone knew colds were the deadliest disease, and fever was a death sentence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So when they discovered their safe base was leaking, the first thing to strike them was panic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Stop that! Don’t scream!” Bruce shouted. “Stay calm! If we fix the leaks during the day, no water will get in at night!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You don’t understand, outsider—we need to drain the rainwater outside first. Let’s go find the pipes…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, we must go upstairs first and make them check their drainage. The problem is definitely coming from them!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But if the street water isn’t drained, it’ll leak again if it rains tonight—we should find the adults…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The gangs won’t listen to us. They’ll only clear their own front gates, not care about us. We have to figure it out ourselves!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I promised someone I’d deliver something today—I have to hurry!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You can’t leave. Don’t you care about our home anymore?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But if we don’t earn money, aren’t we all going to starve?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The chaotic chatter filled the room—some children proposed solutions, others argued against them, some wanted to leave, others tried to stop them; the younger ones were terrified, the older ones tried to calm them; the whole scene was utter chaos, and Bruce didn’t know where to begin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wanted to reason with them, but no one listened to his ideas; many thought he understood nothing. He wanted to soothe their emotions, but Batman was terrible at comforting people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce knew clearly: if they didn’t remove the water and seal the leaks before the temperature peaked, once night fell and it cooled, the work would become even harder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Healthy children might catch colds and run fevers; Jason, already injured, could die if he got chilled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce took a deep breath, scanned the room, then spotted an iron bucket and picked up a wooden stick nearby. He struck the bucket hard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Bang! Bang-bang-bang!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several resonant crashes rang out; all the children turned to him. Bruce exhaled and said: “I’m an adult. You’re kids. Listen to me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Murmurs rose again. Bruce pointed the stick at the noisy child and said: “If you have an opinion, come say it here…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the stick in his hand, the child stammered, muttered a curse under his breath, but fell silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce’s urgency pushed him to act quickly, so his words were blunt, lacking finesse: “Now, everyone split into three groups: Ground Team, Indoor Team, and Daily Operations Team…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ground Team: older kids. Go outside, inspect the drainage pipes, talk to the gangs. You, you… and you—you three look strongest. You’re on Ground Team…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Indoor Team: grab buckets, scoop out the water leaking inside, then seal the leaks…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Everyone who has work to do today: join Daily Operations Team. Go earn money for food…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright. Get to work!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce struck the bucket twice more. The children looked at each other.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They knew Jason was injured and needed rest—if his wound worsened, the consequences would be dire. Since he’d let this strange man temporarily lead them, he must still be trustworthy. So they’d work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, everyone moved. Bruce exhaled in relief—but less than two minutes passed before a new problem arose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Indoor Team returned to report: no buckets. Bruce noticed plastic gasoline cans in the storage room and told them to use those instead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the openings were too small—filling them was awkward. Bruce thought of cutting them open so the top and bottom halves became two larger containers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they had no tools. The knives in the storage were good for stabbing, useless for cutting. The gasoline cans they’d salvaged were sturdy—after half an hour of effort, they couldn’t cut through.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, Bruce found a rusty axe and split the cans open—solving the container problem.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon after, the Ground Team returned: the gangs were only clearing their own front gates, ignoring the streets entirely. The drainage system was overloaded—water couldn’t flow out. Clearing it was hopeless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So they had to seal every possible leak point in the basement, turning it into a waterproof canister.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But sealing materials were the issue—cardboard and wood couldn’t seal properly; water seeped through door gaps and stairs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce couldn’t leave to find materials—he knew these children, though outwardly tough, were inwardly terrified. Jason was injured, and if he left too, they’d panic like headless flies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce stepped forward, inspected the basement door: no sealing conditions at all. Two corners were leaking. Without professional waterproofing, tonight’s water would rise past their ankles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce thought, then made the wisest choice: “Leave. Find higher ground to shelter.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No!” Six-Finger Boss first objected. “This is our home. We won’t abandon it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We’re not abandoning it,” Bruce said calmly. “It’s an emergency. We need temporary shelter on higher ground. We’ll return after one night.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But…” Six-Finger Boss frowned. “Where’s higher ground here? Even if there was, it’s already taken by other gangs. We can’t fight them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She looked around. After the able-bodied kids left, those remaining were thin, young—unable to fight for territory, even unable to shout back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When I came here before, I saw an empty lot in the back alley—elevated, sloped, good for drainage. It could serve as shelter…” Bruce paused. “Gotham’s soil drains well. If we set up a temporary camp there, we can survive tonight.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh!” Six-Finger Boss suddenly gasped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s right! We can go there—and we already have a natural shelter!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone turned to her. Six-Finger Boss said: “Remember that truck we brought back? It’s parked nearby. If we put a tarp over the bed, we can spend the night there, then come back tomorrow to clean up.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce’s eyes lit up. “You got a truck? Does it have an engine?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, but it’s broken. Badly. We had Little Sneak try fixing it—he worked for hours, couldn’t get it running. It’s probably impossible to drive…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce nodded. “Alright. Right now, our priority is finding shelter. I’ll go check the truck first. If it’s usable, you find a few strong kids to carry Jason—we’ll move there first.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several older kids nodded. Bruce stepped out through the cellar door. He carried no gear, but wore practical clothes—his boots were fully waterproof and warm; his coat could double as a raincoat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside, light rain still fell. As the children said, the entire street was flooded. Bruce waded through puddles in his boots, his feet growing cold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the distance, Bruce saw gang members clearing intersections. They had no time for here—their main road had deeper potholes, worse flooding, and their older building leaked badly in multiple places; they were busy sealing it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce saw no other gang members—but he spotted a basement window, where a small hand reached out, holding half a water bottle, scooping water out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most kids’ gangs were in the same situation. All their bases were underground, and this was an old residential area—leaks were unavoidable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce circled to the back of the building, saw the empty lot, saw the truck—and realized it looked familiar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wasn’t this the one I abandoned before???\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When I saw that truck, I was stunned. I never believed in fate or luck—but some things are just that coincidental. The failed trucker career left me one precious relic: my Noah’s Ark through the apocalyptic flood…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the manor’s study, Bruce stretched his stiff neck, then continued writing:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“During this time, I was surprised to find my positive emotions increasing—even feeling joy at finding a broken-down truck.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“At first, I didn’t know if this was good. But then I heard the children cheering—they were truly happy…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And this rainy-night adventure had only just begun…”\u003C\u002Fp>",1493,"2026-06-20T16:39:22.658Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","dd87472d36eb4d2da1dc073d6e4595b92a6e53cada9ed1880fd72871306dcb2b","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-817","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-815",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]